


Mick's Secret Girl

by FireSoul



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Laurel Lance Lives, canaryfire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 17:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16100462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: Mick has been exhibiting some... odd, behaviors lately. Nothing bad, definitely nothing bad, but strange, at least for Mick. Now, on top of it, he's up and disappeared. Sara has no idea where he's gone, but the excuse he has for her when he gets back is a load of bull, right?





	Mick's Secret Girl

Sara thought it was weird when Mick stopped drinking.

Ok, to be fair, she doesn’t actually have any proof that he’s stopped. He didn’t quit cold turkey, or at least, she doesn’t _think_ he did. She could be wrong, considering she hadn’t even noticed on her own that he wasn’t buzzed literally every second of the day anymore.

Of course she isn’t an idiot, nor is she blind. She had noticed that he’d been a lot more agreeable lately, while simultaneously being a little gruffer and on edge at team meetings. She did pick up on his voicing his opinion a little more frequently, and while she had absently wondered about the gradual change in his demeanor she still didn’t notice he’d stopped drinking until Leo stopped by the ship to give them a hand with an Earth-X fugitive and made a comment to her about it.

“So,” he had said in that drawl of a voice that still reminds her a little too much of their Leonard. “I see Mick finally got the help he needed.”

She had almost asked him what he was talking about, her eyes suddenly flying to the sight of Mick at the other end of the galley, and that was when it clicked. Leo had been so obsessed with getting Mick to change, namely by addressing his love of beer, and here the other man was sitting at a far table and drinking water.

She almost thought it was a fluke, that maybe Ray had given it to him or he just wanted water in that moment. So she kept her eyes on him for the next few days, making mental notes of what she saw him drinking.

It’s been over a week, and she still hasn’t witnessed him touch a drop of alcohol.

Mick Rory, the man who blew their cover with a group of Vikings all because he wanted some ale after having his beer confiscated for an hour, hasn’t gone near alcohol in over seven days.

It’s a miracle, it’s amazing, it’s, it’s….

It’s driving her insane.

It’s not like it’s a bad thing, obviously, but she just doesn’t understand why or from where this sudden change came about.

She tries not to think about it, after all, it isn’t hurting the team and so therefor it isn’t her business.

At least, that’s what she tells herself up until the day she can’t find him.

It isn’t an emergency; there isn’t any life or death situation at hand or anything like that. But Axel has wormed his way out of his cage again and with the entire team looking for him, except for Mick, she decided to go to his room and drag him from what she could only assume would be a very deep sleep.

He wasn’t in there.

Now she’s scouring the entire ship looking for him, at least Ray caught Axel and put him back where he belongs.

“Gideon,” she finally says, closing the floor panel in the office that she hasn’t touched since the day she hid down there with Leonard. “Do you have any idea where Mick is?”

“Mr. Rory is asleep in his quarters and wishes not to be disturbed.”

Sara furrows her brow at that, because she knows for a fact that Mick is not asleep in his room.

“Gideon?” She asks again, her voice drawling suspiciously. “Are you lying to me?”

There’s a pause, as though Gideon is trying to come up with an explanation.

But, ultimately, she can’t.

“I am sorry Captain,” she says, “Mr. Rory instructed me to tell that to anyone looking for him, as well as to alert him if a mission came up. He commissioned the jump ship earlier today, saying that he expected to be back by tonight.”

“Where did he go?” Sara demands her eyes narrowing as she rises from where she’s crouched on the floor.

“He didn’t say,” Gideon replies, voice regretful. “He also erased the jump ship’s logs.”

 

* * *

 

When the jump ship clicks back into it’s rightful place Mick makes sure to slip the access key back into the glove compartment, tucked into the 3rdpage of the owners manual, where it belongs. He’s right on time getting back, though he wishes he could’ve stayed later. But he doesn’t want anyone catching on to his little trips just yet, not before he figures out how to handle it anyway.

Too late.

He jumps back with a shout the second in which he opens the door, because Sara is standing right there just far enough away for the opening hatchway to avoid clipping her face, her arms folded over her chest and a deadly look in her eye.

“Jeez Boss,” he says, regaining his composure and stumbling out onto the actual ship. Sara steps back to make room for him, not saying anything when he turns to close the hatch for the jump ship. They both know he can only procrastinate this for so long, and she is going to let him drag out every guilty second of it.

He sighs while turning back around, dreading this conversation more than she can possibly know.

“So,” he says awkwardly, swinging his arms in front of him and hitting the palm of one hand against the other fist. She lets him do this a few times, letting him suffer with the knowledge of being caught until he can’t bear it anymore. “Busy day?”

“Where were you?” She finally says; voice unimpressed by his stalling, like she had been expecting at least a halfway decent excuse.

He wishes he had one to offer, he isn’t ready to tell her the truth yet, too worried about how she’ll react.

Damn, he really is going soft.

“I was uh… I was visiting my girlfriend.” He tries to sound confident, but it doesn’t really come off and instead he sounds more like he’s making it up, as evidenced by the eyebrow she raises at him.

“You were visiting your girlfriend?” She asks, pronouncing each syllable of every word, like she wants to make sure there won’t be any way for him to mishear her.

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod, though she’s still looking at him as though he’s lost his marbles.

“Does your girlfriend have a name?” She finally asks, apparently deciding she is going to go along with what she has to be thinking is a load of bull.

Maybe he should’ve tried lying, oh well.

He shakes his head, and again she quirks an eyebrow.

“No?” She asks, then she waits for a response and of course he doesn’t give one. “So you stole the jump ship and had Gideon lie about it, so that you could go somewhere and visit a nameless girl?”

He lets his eyes wander up to the ceiling so that he can avoid her gaze, hoping that maybe if he stays quiet long enough she’ll let him go without any more questions.

It’s entirely too long that they stand there in silence, her watching him and waiting for an explanation and him doing all that he can to avoid giving one. It isn’t that he never wants her to know, not if things work out anyway, but right now things are still new and he can’t say if she really has to know yet or not.

“Yup.”

She stares at him blankly, like she’s trying to decide if she wants to force the information out of him or let him get away with it. He waits until she hasn’t said anything in over minute, and when it still doesn’t look like she’s going to demand any more answers he decides to try getting out of here.

“Well goodnight,” he says with a wave, excusing himself and heading off down the hall to his room.

 

* * *

 

After getting caught Mick knows he needs to be more careful about when he leaves the ship, and for how long, yet even with every instinct he has screaming at him to lay low he just can’t stay away from 2018, or the warm bed awaiting him there.

His eyes flutter open with the early morning light creeping through the edges of the shades, something he’s learned to appreciate ever since he established his life on the Waverider.

Another thing he has right now that he’s learned to appreciate is the warm feeling of another naked body against his, the subtle rise and fall of breathing lungs under his hand, and the faint scent of coconut lingering on the blonde hair he has found his nose buried in.

Suddenly that hair moves, Laurel waking up and rolling to look at him. He’ll never admit to being soft, but he knows that’s exactly what he’s become when he feels his heart skip upon seeing Laurel smiling at him. He matches her expression even as she leans up to kiss him.

“Morning,” she mumbles, her voice still thick and dreamy with sleep.

“Morning.” He returns, still grinning at her like an idiot, until she frowns thoughtfully.

“I thought you would’ve left.”

He hums at her words, “You want me to leave?”

“No silly,” she giggles at him, and it brings the smile back to his face. She takes a second to stretch her arms out then, nearly smacking him in the face, but he’ll let that slide because of how often he does leave in the middle of the night. “I just know it’s dangerous if you stay away from the ship for too long.”

He can feel his expression turn thoughtful as another hum escapes him. That’s a loaded word she’s used, dangerous, but it’s accurate. He keeps one of The Professor’s temporal walkie-talkies here so Gideon can notify him if he’s needed, but that isn’t to say he doesn’t ever get… distracted. As she’s pointed out, he rarely ever stays the whole night, and he isn’t going to pretend he didn’t wake up and check for an alert twice last night. He’s always afraid the thing isn’t going to work and the team is going to need him, that he’ll get back and someone will be laid up in the med bay with an injury he should have been there to prevent, or worse.

Then there are the more rational fears. The fear that somebody, probably Haircut, Pretty, or even New Girl, will break their way into his room while he’s here and realize that he isn’t locked up in there. Which brings him to his most consuming fear as of late.

“Your sister’s getting suspicious.”

Laurel whines at his reminder, and he chuckles. They’ve talked about this already, to an extent. He told her one night while they were talking via the walkie-talkies about Sara discovering his absence. They agreed, though neither of them was happy about it, to cut back his visits.

That was last week, so they aren’t off to the best start.

“What do you want to do?”

Laurel’s question snaps Mick’s attention from his thoughts and back to her. She’s lying stiff now, picking at her nails and actively avoiding his eyes.

Now that is a loaded question.

He may have called her his girlfriend to get Sara off his back, but they’ve both been avoiding labeling this thing between them. At first they were just having fun, letting off steam. It started after all the Nazi shit, nothing more than a half drunken hook-up at Scarlet’s wedding (Laurel was completely sober, he was a little more buzzed than usual). But holy hell was it a good hook-up, so they agreed neither of them was going to read into it when it happened again, and again, and again. He stayed maybe one of those times, too tired by the end of it to get up before the sun and head back to the ship. Then her dad died, and Sara was hailed home. She asked him if he would come over that night, not for sex, just to keep her company, and he went.

That was when they realized how deep they’d gotten in with each other.

They’ve been avoiding talking about it, even though they talk about almost everything else. He knows things about her he’s never cared enough to learn about anyone else, and he’s told her some things about him he once thought he’d be taking to his grave.

He doesn’t do feelings, though, and it isn’t like she’s had the best luck with them. So deciding what to do now, if they’re gonna admit where they are or if they’re going to fall back on the familiar safety of running, is one of the scariest things Mick’s ever faced; likely because he knows the answer.

She’s still picking at her nails when he looks back at her, acting like she hasn’t just put the nature of their relationship into his hands. He smirks at the purposely-neutral expression on her face, and leans down to press a kiss against her lips.

She smiles against his mouth, giggling into the kiss when he settles a hand on her waist and then pulls back.

“Well, I know I don’t want to give this up.”

Her beaming continues at his answer, her arms winding up and around his neck while her legs do the same at his waist, and then in one swift motion she flips them over. The sheets fly halfway off of them with her movement, knotting around his legs, but Mick can’t bring himself to care. He hardly notices the chill that should come with the sudden loss of coverage, her skin against his more than enough to keep him warm.

They’ll work out the details later about how they’re supposed to come clean to Sara, along with when, but for now he needs to be getting back to the Waverider before anyone notices he’s gone. Meaning he doesn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting Laurel off one more time before he goes.


End file.
